⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 🌺┊      AS POWDER PUFF PRESSES ALONG SKIN, Lucien attempts to wrangle a heart heaving into throat. Hardly can they speak amidst cosmetic application, though 'tis the choking that truly prohibits their verbiage, instead left to communicate through sniffles and hiccups. A concerted effort keeps hand from mien, leaving Beck to combat the wreckage that was their visage.

With their make - up proving to contest salty tears, they quietly watch as Beck preps to escape.   ❝ W-wait, you're leaving? ❞   The words scrape free, budging around the lump lodged in their neck. Not even the lull of the mirror   ( a best friend of theirs, under most circumstances ),   could keep them from pulling away from their seat.

❝ Y-You'll be in the crowd, right? ❞   They scramble, following behind, caring not who questions their conversational partner's presence. With arriving hosts' encroaching footsteps, they hush, leaving their hero to his escape. Clasped hands reside before his lips, pressed closely against his lipstick. Pulling their fingers away, they glance at their hand, lashes batting rapidly at their cheeks.   ❝ Oh, wow... This stuff is pretty strong, actually... ❞  

it just makes them stupid